


The Definition of The Truth

by TheInevitableSense



Series: A List Of Definitions [9]
Category: Crucible Cast Party - SNL Sketch, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cheating, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flashbacks, I mean really dark, I said no ninth part guess who wrote a ninth part, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Summer Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9077146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInevitableSense/pseuds/TheInevitableSense
Summary: “Hey!” Someone taps Thomas on the shoulder. The seven-year-old looks up from where he’s sitting, hunched on the front steps of the health cabin. “Whatcha doing up here?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exadorlion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exadorlion/gifts).



> *writes a ninth part and makes it three times as long as any other part.*
> 
> (Also exadorlion made some good ass fanart for this I mean I was literally shaking go check it out. Find it on either of our tumblrs.)

_“Hey!” Someone taps Thomas on the shoulder. The seven-year-old looks up from where he’s sitting, hunched on the front steps of the health cabin. “Whatcha doing up here?”_

_The speaker, which Thomas had assumed would be a counselor, turns out to be another boy. Thomas looks up to wide brown eyes and a green camp tee. CAMP YORKTOWN, it exclaims in all capitals and bright yellow lettering. Thomas shrugs._

_“Waiting for my friend,” he says, hoping the other boy will go away. Brown Eyes frowns, his mouth turning into an expression of confusion._

_“Is he in there?” Brown Eyes points at the health cabin. Thomas nods._

_“Yeah. He got sick last night.”_

_“Bummer,” Brown Eyes says. Thomas thinks that’s that, Brown Eyes is going to run back down to main camp and join the other boys. “Did he throw up or something?”_

_The extra question catches Thomas off guard. Even more off putting, though, is the fact the other kid sits down next to Thomas on the wooden stairs. Thomas blinks at him, before shaking his head._

_“No, he’s got asthma,” Thomas explains. Brown Eyes cocks his head._

_“What’s ‘athsma?’” He asks. Thomas frowns._

_“_ Asthma _,” he corrects. “It’s like… momma said it’s like when you breath in dust or something, but all the time.”_

_“Your friend breathes in dust all the time?” Brown Eyes talks funny, Thomas realizes. Kind of like the way Uncle Field talks, but different. Momma told Thomas that Uncle Field talks funny because he lives up north and people up north talk funny. But Brown Eyes doesn’t talk like the north, he just talks funny._

_Thomas shakes his head. “No, he breathes normal air. It just makes him cough a lot.”_

_“Oh,” Brown Eyes says. “That’s weird.”_

_“James isn’t weird,” Thomas snaps. Brown Eyes jumps, not having expected the outburst._

_“I didn’t say he was weird,” Brown Eyes counters. “I just said that athsma is weird.”_

_“Asthma,” Thomas mutters again. Brown Eyes huffs._

_“Asthma, athsma, whatever.”_

_Then it’s quiet, both boys falling silent, listening to the shrieks of delight that echo from the field the rest of the camp is playing on. Birds tweet around them, and Thomas can hear the summer heat. Brown Eyes starts to rock his feet against the ground, tapping his toes against the concrete, then his heels. Thomas eyes him sideways._

_“Why are you still here?” He asks, much less harshly than he had intended. Brown Eyes looks at him and smiles._

_“Buddy system,” he explains. “Everyone’s gotta have a buddy at camp.”_

_“That’s a dumb rule for the little kids,” Thomas grumbles. Brown Eyes’ smile falls._

_“Everyone’s supposed to follow it, even the big kids,” he insists. “You were alone, so I decided to be your buddy.”_

_Thomas rolls his eyes. “Dontcha think I’m alone for a reason?”_

_“But you’re not supposed to be.”_

_“I snuck away from main camp to be alone, okay?”_

_“Well…” Brown Eyes purses his lips. “If I’m quiet, it’ll be like you’re alone without actually being alone.”_

_Which, Thomas supposes, is an alright compromise. This way, he won’t get in trouble if spotted. He nods silently, and Brown Eyes goes back to watching the trees. It’s all fine for a moment, Thomas almost forgets he’s not alone anymore, and then he hears the humming start. Brown Eyes happily hums a tune to himself, his toes starting to tap along to his song. Thomas tries to ignore it. He glares at Brown Eyes, almost like he’s trying to telepathically communicate the word ‘stop’ to the other boy. After a moment, Brown Eyes notices._

_“Are you okay?” He asks. Thomas frowns._

_“You said you were going to be quiet.”_

_“Was I not being quiet?” Brown Eyes asks, the picture of innocence. Thomas shakes his head. “Oh, sorry.”_

_“Why don’t you just go back to the others,” Thomas suggests._

_“You’d be alone then,” Brown Eyes points out._

_“Good,” Thomas replies. Brown Eyes frowns back, thinking. He stands up and holds his hand out to Thomas._

_“Why don’t you come with me?” He asks. Thomas blinks._

_“What made you think I want to go with you anywhere?”_

_Brown Eyes shrugs. “I wanna go play gaga ball.”_

_“So?”_

_“Come on! Play with me.” Brown Eyes bounces in place. “Please,” he begs. Thomas sighs._

_“One round, then you leave me alone.”_

_“Deal!” Brown Eyes grabs Thomas by the hand and pulls him off the stairs. “What’s your name?”_

_Thomas blinks. “Thomas,” he replies, almost tripping over his own feet. He’s keeping up with Brown Eyes, but the other boy is pulling him hard enough to make him stumble._

_“I’m Alexander,” the boy says. “Alexander Hamilton.”_

\--------------

“Thomas!” Alexander calls, pounding on the other man’s front door. “Thomas, open the door, please.” He gets no response. He jiggles the doorknob, as if it’s suddenly going to be unlocked, and growls in frustration.

“Do we even know he’s home?” Cody asks, standing behind Alexander. He fidgets in place, glancing about.

“His car’s here.” Alexander hits the door again. “Thomas Jefferson,” he shouts, “if you do not open this door _right now_ , I’ll open it for you.”

“How are you going to do that?” Cody comes closer to the door. Alexander pauses and waits for Thomas. When the door doesn’t open, he sighs and kneels. He runs his hands through his hair, pulling out two bobby pins and getting to work straightening them out.

“Cover me. Don’t look suspicious,” Alexander says. Cody takes another step and tries to shield the crouching man from outside eyes. Alexander leans into the door, using his makeshift lock picks to turn the lock. It’s a simple lock, and though he’s out of practice, Alexander makes short work of it.

“How do you know how to do that?” Cody asks, eyes wide. Alexander shoves the ruined bobby pins back into his pocket.

“Learned in the army for...reasons,” Alexander says by way of explanation. Cody doesn’t look satisfied with the answer, but Alexander is opening the door and leading the other man inside. “Thomas! It’s me, Alexander. Cody is with me,” he calls into the house. Cody shuts the front door behind them.

“Thomas, answer us,” Cody says. But neither of them get a response. They’re standing in a small kitchen, and Alexander can’t help but notice the empty bottles of wine, liquor and beer strewn around. The house reeks of booze. The lights are on, though, which gives Alexander hope. Thomas isn’t one to leave the lights on. He looks at his younger companion.

“Check this floor, I’ll take upstairs,” he commands. Cody, still looking all sorts of uncomfortable, nods and heads past the staircase to their right and down a hall. As Alexander runs up the stairs, he makes a note to make this whole thing up to the kid later. He knows this is the very last thing Cody wants to do, the last place he wants to be.

But Alexander dragged him out here, it was too important not to.

“Thomas?” He called into the lit upper hallway.

\--------------

_“Thomas!” Alexander jumped in place in the mess hall, pointing furiously to an open seat beside him. Thomas smiles, pushing his way through the throng of kids to Alexander’s table, beating out a few other children to the chair. He plants his hands on the back of the chair, rolling his eyes as Alexander holds out his fist. Thomas bumps it anyway, and Alexander grins at him._

_“‘Sup, kid?” Thomas asks. The seven-year-old frowns at him._

_“I’m only a year younger than you!” He protests. Thomas, now eight years old, chuckles. Alexander pouts, crossing his arms._

_“Which makes you a kid,” Thomas teases._

_“And I saved you the seat by the condiment bar,” Alexander huffs. “To think, I gave up-” he’s interrupted by the call for grace. The two boys repeat the rhyming prayer in monotone unison with the rest of the camp, then sit down hurriedly. The councilor at the table, one of Thomas’ favorites this year, starts to pass out food._

_“Where’s James?” Alexander asks. Thomas sighs._

_“Didn’t come this year,” He grumbles. Alexander frowns in sympathy._

_“Hey, at least we don’t have to worry about truddies again. It’s just the two of us! Buddies all the way.”_

_“Yeah,” Thomas smiles at the shorter boy. “Just us.”_

\-----------

Alexander pokes his head into the guest bedroom, but there’s no sign of Thomas. He jogs to the other side of the hallway, throws open the door to Thomas’ bedroom and storms inside. But Thomas isn’t here either, just more empty bottles of wine scattered across the floor. The bed is unmade and Alexander can just faintly pick out the smell of smoke. He’s just about to turn around and head back downstairs when he sees the light coming from underneath the master bathroom.

Alexander crosses the room quickly and knocks on the door. “Thomas?” He calls. “Are you in there?” He gets no response, but the very fact the light is on worries him. He hits the door a little harder. “ _Thomas_?I”

\-----------

_“Thomas?!” Alexander exclaims, dropping his duffel bag on the floor of the platform tent. Thomas looks up from where he’s arranging his bug net and grins. In a flash, Alexander has his arms wrapped around the older boy. Thomas stumbles a little under Alexander’s momentum, but Alexander doesn’t weigh enough to knock him down. “We’re tent-mates?!”_

_Thomas nods. “I convinced the councilors to put us together,” he explains. “I was here_ super _early.”_

_“You always are.” Alexander steps back, turns around and eyes the three remaining cots. Thomas is glad the younger boy doesn’t see him wince. It’s taken him this long, nearly five years of camp, ten years of his life to understand why Thomas is always the first to check in every summer. Why his father drops him off and leaves faster than the councilors can give him the speech they give the other parents._

_But that doesn’t matter now. Alexander wants to see him, so it’s better than being at home anyway. Thomas watches as the other boy plops his bag onto the cot next to the one Thomas had chosen. “What, wanna play footsie at night?” Thomas teases. Alexander sticks his tongue out at him._

_“I was thinking we could be head-to-head. That way we can talk at night and not wake up whoever else is with us.”_

_“We’re not allowed to be head-to-head,” Thomas reminds him, “Lice and things.”_

_“We have a lice-check when we get here. It’s fine.” Alexander pulls out his pillow and blankets, arranging them as he wants. Thomas realizes, belatedly, that Alexander doesn’t have a parent with him, but he shakes it off. Knows Alexander comes by bus, so there’s no reason the nine-year-old would have a parent._

_“If I get lice, I’m blaming you,” Thomas says, moving his pillow to be by where his and Alexander’s cots connect._

_“No, no. Not yet. Put it on the other end until the councilors come by for first check.” Alexander throws Thomas’ pillow back to where it had been. Thomas blinks, more than a little surprised. Alexander catches him staring. “What?”_

_“Mr. Everyone-has-to-have-a-buddy actively deceiving the councilors?”_

_Alexander curls up his lip, shaking his head and whining in a high-pitched voice, mocking Thomas. Thomas laughs as Alexander mutters something about “no good friends not appreciating him.”_

_“If I hadn’t been that way, we never would have met,” Alexander observes. Thomas rolls his eyes and flops down on his bed, forgetting that he has his bug net closed. It falls on top of him, and Alexander breaks down into hysterics._

\------------

“Did you find him?” Cody calls from somewhere.

“Keep looking!” Alexander calls back, hitting the door one last time. He knows he should move on, but the locked door is scaring him and he wants to make sure Thomas isn’t in there before leaving. It’s a simple lock, and Alexander considers picking it. Instead, he drops to his knees, presses his face against the floor and peers beneath the gap in the door. He’s hoping to find Thomas’ feet, or nothing.

Instead, he’s greeted with the sight of fresh droplets of blood. Dark red and shining in the light, they form a trail that leads outside of what Alexander can see.

“Shit,” he breathes.

\-----------

_“Shit!” Alexander drops the bundle of sticks in his arms and grabs his wrist. Thomas looks up in shock._

_“Alexander!” He exclaims._

_“Sorry, sorry, I-” Alexander hisses, and Thomas sees the blood start to seep from between his fingers. Thomas drops his own collection of firewood and rushes over to his friend. He takes Alexander’s wrist in his hand and looks at the fresh wound. There’s a ragged gash on the inside of Alexander’s arm, trailing down a few inches._

_“What did you do?” Thomas asks, watching beads of blood rise to the cut and flow across Alexander’s skin._

_“Stupid branch cut me,” Alexander mutters. Thomas frowns._

_“Come on, let’s go get a counselor,” he says, holding Alexander’s arm above his friend’s head. He tries to lead Alexander back to the path, back to their sleeping unit, but Alexander shakes his head and digs his heels into the ground._

_“I’m fine,” he says, pulling his wrist from Thomas’ grip._

_“You’re bleeding,” Thomas counters. Alexander huffs._

_“I said I’m fine. Get the wood.” Alexander crouches to pick up his dropped bundle._

_“The wood can wait, Alexander. You’re hurt.”_

_“So?”_

_“_ So _, it could get infected. Especially if you’re carrying a bunch of wood near an open wound.”_

_“It doesn’t hurt.”_

_“First, that doesn’t matter. Second, you said a curse word. It hurts.” Thomas crosses his arms. Alexander frowns, and Thomas knows he’s right. “Let’s get you a bandage, and then we can come back for the firewood.”_

_“Fine,” Alexander grumbles, dropping what he had in his hands. His wrist and hand is almost completely coated red, and Thomas sighs._

_“I knew going off the path was a bad idea,” he says, leading his friend back to the marked trail._

_“Ah, but there’s no firewood on the path. We had to go into the brush.”_

_Thomas rolls his eyes. Arguing with this boy is pointless. “Where did you even learn a bad word?”_

_“My brother,” Alexander replies. “Mom gets mad at him when he says them.”_

_“Them?”_

_“Shit, ass, fuck-”_

_“Alexander!” Thomas stares, gape-mouthed at his friend. Alexander shrugs._

_“They’re just words.”_

_“No ten-year-old should say those words,” Thomas admonishes._

_“You sound like my mom.”_

_Thomas smiles. “Then our moms sound really damn alike.”_

_Alexander starts, nearly tripping over a rock on the trail. “You just said we shouldn’t use those words!”_

_“I said ten-year-olds shouldn’t use them. Eleven-year-olds can.” Thomas winks. Alexander pouts._

_“What about ten-year-olds that are good friends with eleven-year-olds?” He counters._

_“Nope.” Thomas shakes his head. Alexander thinks._

_“How about ten-year-olds who have brothers that let them say it?”_

_“Nadda,” Thomas says. “Thems the rules. Dad said so.”_

_“What about ten-year-olds that don’t have dads?”_

_Thomas hesitates. Alexander had told him about his father leaving last February. He sighs, and looks down at his shorter friend._

_“Fine. But only in the woods, after being hurt by sticks.”_

_“I’ll take it.”_

\--------------

Alexander shoots upright, cursing to himself. He pulls the bobby pins out of his pocket and, together, they’re just thick and strong enough to push the internal lock open. Alexander feels it spring underneath his hands and he stands. His hands fumble with the doorknob, but he gets it to cooperate after what feels like hours but must only be seconds.

Alexander throws the door open wide and can’t help the gasp that escapes him.

Thomas is in here alright. He’s in the bathtub, face dangerously pale and eyes shut. The blood that Alexander had seen was the least of it. The floor is littered with drops and the white wall of the bathtub has red streaks down the side. On the sink is a razor, colored dark red.

There are photographs littering the floor, half burnt, half ripped into pieces. Alexander thinks he recognizes his and Thomas’ faces in one, but he doesn’t have time to stop and examine them. His feet propel him across the floor, only skidding a little in the blood.

He reaches the bathtub, and Alexander had thought he was prepared for the sight. But the full image of Thomas, fully clothed, lying still in red water still shocks him. Alexander tries not to think about how much blood he must have already lost to make the water _that_ dark. Steeling himself, Alexander plunges his hands into the still warm water, and finds Thomas’ arms. He pulls them out and it’s not good.

“Thomas, what have you done?” He near shrieks.

\-------------

_“Thomas, what have you done?” Alexander asks, sternly. Thomas smiles sheepishly up at him._

_“Whoops?” He grins. Alexander sighs climbs out of the back of the tent. He makes his way over to where Thomas is kneeling, picking his way carefully in the darkness of night, and squats down beside him. Alexander looks at Thomas left arm. It’s bent in a way arms should not be bent, the wrist twisted in a nauseating way._

_“I doubt your ability to backflip and you go and throw yourself out the back of the goddamned tent,” Alexander admonishes, tracing the obvious break with his eyes._

_“Language!” Thomas reprimands him, choosing very specifically not to look at his own arm._

_“I’m eleven now, Thomas,” Alexander counters. “Why did you- why?”_

_“I needed the ledge to do it.” Thomas points up to the railing on the platform tent. “I just didn’t know the ground was uneven.”_

_“We’re in the woods, Thomas.” Alexander drawls. “Of course it’s uneven. Couldn’t you have just done the flip on flat ground?”_

No, _Thomas thinks._ That’s not as cool and I wanted to impress you. _Instead he says: “Because the ground’s for losers.”_

_“You are ridiculous,” Alexander sighs. “Come on, then. To the adults.” Alexander pulls Thomas up by his good arm. Thomas cradles his arm into his stomach and uses his good hand to help support it. Alexander slips his arm around Thomas’ shoulder and leads him back around the tent._

_Thomas is hyper-aware of Alexander’s arm on him, and he feels his face start to heat up. The little butterflies in his stomach return and he the only thing that’s stopping him from screaming is the pain that shoots through his arm with each step._

_Thomas knows what this is. This is how James describes how he_ likes _likes Dolley, a girl in their class. But it also confuses him, because boys aren’t supposed to_ like _like each other. That doesn’t stop Thomas’ stomach from flip-flopping around Alexander, or from doing backflips off his tent to impress the other boy._

_“Hey, I think Thomas broke his arm,” Alexander is saying, and Thomas realizes they’ve made it to the councilor’s tent. One of them sits up and rubs his hands in his face as Alexander makes up a story about Thomas sleepwalking out of the tent._

_“That’s what that noise was,” he mutters. “Okay. Come on boys, to the health cabin.” He frowns at Thomas. “Your ears are all red. Did you hit your head too?”_

_“Uh, nope,” Thomas says, his face heating up further. The councilor sighs._

\------------

“Alexander?” Cody calls. Alexander curses, holding Thomas’ arms up as best he can. “What’s happened?” Cody’s voice is getting closer; Alexander can hear his footsteps on the stairs.

“I’m in the master bathroom, _don’t come in here!_ ” He calls, hearing Cody hit the upstairs landing.

Then Thomas groans, a little noise escaping his lips and Alexander’s heart leaps in joy. _He’s alive_ , he thinks, finally seeing the shallow movement of Thomas’s chest. He’s still bleeding, which is both a good thing and a bad one.

“Alexander?” Cody calls again. He’s just outside the bathroom, Alexander can tell.

“I’m fine!” He calls back. “Just… just call 911, alright. Don’t come any closer.” Alexander reluctantly lets Thomas’ arms fall. He hooks his hands under Thomas’ arms and heaves. He needs to get Thomas out of the water; the latent heat isn’t helping the bleeding stop. But Thomas is nothing but dead weight and Alexander is forced to let him slide back down into the tub.

The water sloshes around them and Alexander pulls Thomas’ arms back out. He grabs one of Thomas’ hand towels and goes to work, wiping away the water and blood but not trying not to put too much pressure on the cuts. Thomas somehow had the wherewithal to cut vertically, not horizontally, and had made Alexander’s job- saving Thomas’ life- that much harder.

Alexander holds Thomas’ hands to the side of the bathtub, keeping them as straight and elevated as possible. There’s blood on both their hands and Alexander feels like he’s going to be sick. Thomas groans again. Alexander grabs him by the shoulder and shakes as hard as he dares.

“Wake up, Thomas, please,” he begs.

\------------

_“Thomas, hey, wake up,” Alexander whispers, shaking Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas groans, rolling over and away from his friend. “Thoomaaaasss,” Alexander whines. Thomas huffs, opens his eyes and glares over his shoulder._

_“What?” He whisper-yells back._

_“I need to go to the bathroom,” Alexander explains. Thomas flops onto his back._

_“Are you serious?” He asks, rubbing his face with his hand._

_“Yeah.” Alexander nods. Thomas groans again, and sits up. He swings his feet over the side of his cot and stands._

_“Lemme get my shoes,” he mutters. He pulls a pair of ratty shoes out from under his bed, being careful not to jostle his arm in the sling too badly. Two whole weeks at camp with a broken wrist had sucked, but his family had refused to come pick him up, so he had gritted his teeth and kept going._

_Alexander appointing himself Thomas’ caretaker had helped somewhat._

_Thomas struggles with his shoes until Alexander does it for him, trying Thomas’ shoes with expertise. Thomas grabs his flashlight and follows Alexander out of the tent._ Stupid buddy system _, he thinks,_ making me get up in the middle of the night. _Quietly, so as to not disturb anyone else, Thomas and Alexander pick their way through camp and down the small trail to the latrines._

_When they get there, Thomas hangs back, scrunching up his nose at the smell. Alexander can walk the last few feet on his own. Instead of opening the door to the disgusting stall the camp considered a ‘bathroom,’ Alexander picked his way along the tree line, stopping when he reached a small stack of stones._

_“Here!” He whispered, just loud enough for Thomas to hear. The other boy picked up his head and looked back at Thomas. Alexander’s eyes glittered in the flashlight. “Come on,” he said, motioning to Thomas._

_“I thought you were going to the bathroom,” Thomas replies, confused._

_“I just said that to get you out of bed,” Alexander admits. “Let’s go, before someone hears.” Alexander steps into the brush, and Thomas rushes down the path to where Alexander is._

_“What are you doing?” Thomas hisses._

_“Going on adventure.” Alexander says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Thomas stares, open-mouthed as Alexander steps over a root._

_“It’s the last night of camp and you want to go on an_ adventure _?” Thomas whisper-yells._

_“Uhh, yeah!” Alexander winces as a branch cracks underfoot. “It’s the last night of camp! Now, come on, we need light.”_

_Thomas blinks, flabbergasted, but follows Alexander carefully, shining the flashlight onto the ground so both of them can see. “Where are we going?” He asks._

_“A place,” Alexander replies._

_“Do you even know where we’re going?” Thomas drawls. Alexander shoots him a glare. Even in the darkness, Thomas can see the mock-annoyance across his features._

_“Of course I do,” he huffs. “David and I found it when we were looking for firewood.”_

_“You got David to go off a trail?” Thomas asks, more than a little surprised. Alexander nods._

_“That kid does anything anyone tells him too.” Alexander pauses. “Well, as long as there’s no adults or councilors around,” he amends. Adults, Thomas knows, are people Alexander has come to hate sometime over the last school year. Councilors are adults that Alexander can stand being around. Thomas just sighs, resigning himself to following Alexander on whatever ‘adventure’ he wants to go on._

_Or, at least, that’s what he lets Alexander think is happening. In reality, Thomas’ heart is pounding in excitement. One last adventure with Alexander, their last time together before they both go home for the year._

_Thomas has no idea how long they walk for, but eventually, Alexander stops. “We made it,” he says. Thomas looks up to find himself on the bottom of a hill. It rises above the two boys, though Thomas thinks it looks smooth. Alexander takes off up the hill, and Thomas follows a heartbeat later. They climb in silence, concentrating on not tripping. Now that they’re out of the trees, the moon casts enough light to see by, and Thomas shuts his light off. Who knew how much battery he had, and they still had to go back._

_Alexander hits the crest first, stopping at the very top. He waits patiently for Thomas to catch up, and both boys stand there, breathing hard for a second. Then, Alexander looks up and gasps._

_“I was right. I knew it would look pretty at night,” he breaths. Thomas follows his eyes to see a night sky_ covered _in stars. Each one is so bright, and there are so many. It looks like the fake space-show Thomas had seen once, at a planetarium, but this was so much better because it was_ real _._

_“Woah,” Thomas breathes._

_“Woah,” Alexander agrees. Thomas can see more stars than he ever thought possibly existed. The stars splay across the dark blue sky, twinkling brightly. It takes Thomas’ breath away._

_“They don’t look like this at home,” he says. “Not in the city.”_

_“This is just a bit better than where I’m from,” Alexander explains. “There’s no buildings blocking them here.” Thomas nods his agreement, and looks back down at where his friend had been standing. But Alexander isn’t there anymore, and Thomas whips his head around looking for him. Alexander giggles and Thomas follows the sound down. The other boy is laying on his back on the grass now, grinning up at Thomas._

_Thomas’ stomach does a little acrobatic routine at the sight._

_Alexander pats the ground next to him and says: “It’s even better if you lay down.” So Thomas does, his head lying next to Alexander’s, the top his head almost on his friend’s shoulder. They lay there in silence, looking at the stars. Thomas can’t help but think that this,_ this moment right here _, is the best thing that’s ever happened or will happen in his life. Twelve years old and he’s already peaked. He finds he doesn’t mind._

_“Thomas?” Alexander’s voice is hesitant, so unlike anything Thomas has ever heard before._

_“Yeah?”_

_“You’re coming back next year, right?” Alexander asks. Thomas nods._

_“Of course. I don’t think my parents would let me stay home even if I wanted to.”_

_Alexander nods, understanding completely, beside him. “I’m coming too. Momma doesn’t want me at home. I think she’s worried I’ll end up like my brother.”_

_Alexander’s brother is in jail, Thomas knows, but doesn’t say anything. Silence resumes for a second, then Alexander speaks again._

_“As long as you’re coming, we might as well stick together again.” Alexanders’ words are teasing, but his tone is anything but._

_“If you want to see me, then sure,” Thomas replies. Alexander must know what Thomas means, must hear the undercurrent of his thoughts, because he says:_

_“I will never not want to see you. You’re my friend.”_

_“You’re mine too,” Thomas says. He turns his head, and finds Alexander looking at him. The other boy takes a breath._

_“Thomas,” he begins, “promise me something. Promise me that it’s going to be you and me forever. That in twenty years, you’ll still be my friend and I’ll still be yours and we’ll be together forever.”_

_Thomas looks in the Alexander’s eyes. He sees the desperation there and knows he must be wearing the same expression._

_“I promise.”_

\--------------

“Alexander?” Cody’s voice comes from just behind Alexander, and just as Alexander goes to command Cody away again, the other man gasps. “ _Thomas_!” Cody is beside Alexander in a flash, hands reaching for the man in the bathtub.

“I thought I told you not to come in here,” Alexander chastises, but Cody ignores him.

“We need to get him out of the water,” the younger man says.

“I tried. He’s limp, wet weight,” Alexander explains. Cody bites his lip.

“Together then.” Cody reaches over the tub and grabs Thomas by the far shoulder. “On the count of three.”

“Cody, we can’t lift him,” Alexander protests.

“Yes we can, Alexander,” Cody says, gritting his teeth. “Come on.”

“Cody, I tried already!”

“Yes but not with help,” Cody counters. “We can do this.”

“No we-”

“ _Alexander Hamilton, we are getting him out of the water_ ,” Cody yells, startling the older man. “He is _not_ going to die, not if I have anything to say about it.” Thomas groans again, or so Alexander thinks. Cody snaps his head to look Thomas. “Thomas?” he asks. “Did you say something?”

“...just let me die,” Thomas mutters, his voice weak.

“He’s awake?” Alexander asks, dumbfounded. Cody just grabs onto Thomas’ face.

“No, I refuse,” he says. “Not happening.”

\------------

_“Sorry Thomas, not happening,” the councilor says, apologetically. Thomas, thirteen now, frowns._

_“And why not?” He spits._

_“I can’t put you and Alexander together,” the man explains. Thomas opens his mouth to protest, when the man cuts him off. “There’s no ‘Alexander’ to put you with, little man.”_

_“What do you mean, there’s no Alexander?”_

_“Well, I don’t have an Alexander Hamilton on my list. Are you sure he’s in this age group?”_

_Thomas nods. “Yeah, he’s twelve.”_

_The councilor looks over his list again, and shakes his head. “I’m really sorry, Thomas. He’s not here.”_

_Thomas frowns, but thanks the councilor anyway. As he walks away, back to his assigned tent, Thomas wonders about what happened. Alexander is supposed to be here, supposed to be in this age group._

_Alexander doesn’t show the rest of check-in day. At dinner, Thomas scans the mess hall for the other boy, but he’s nowhere to be found. Thomas spends the entire first week hoping Alexander will show._

_He never does._

_Alexander doesn’t show the next year either, or the year after that, or the year after that. Thomas goes to camp every year hoping he’s going to see his friend. Thomas even goes when he’s eighteen, the last year he can._

_No Alexander._

\--------------

“Please,” Thomas chokes out, feebly trying to push Cody off of him, but he can’t even raise his arms.

“No, fuck you,” Cody says, grabbing on tighter to Thomas’ shoulder. “I told you not to do anything like this. Alexander, help me!”

Alexander bites his tongue, but grabs Thomas’ other shoulder. Cody counts down from three and both men pull with all their strength. Thomas actually seems to try and fight them, but he’s lost so much blood he can hardly move. Somehow, with all the grace of a dying bird, Thomas is pulled from the water and over the lip of the bathtub. The water pulls on Thomas’ skin and clothes, but with a sucking sound, the dying man is released from its grip.

Cody and Alexander lay him down on the bathroom floor, holding his arms up by his hands. “You called 911, right?” Alexander asks. Cody nods, wiping his mouth with his free hand. The two men on their feet are breathing hard, and Thomas’ own breathing seems to get shallower and shallower.

“Goddamnit,” Cody hisses. Alexander drops his head. Thomas’ hand, the one he’s holding in the air, hangs limply in his and there’s still blood streaming down Thomas’ arms. Finally, getting a chance to look down, Alexander realizes he’s standing on one of the torn photographs. He moves his foot to get a better look.

He was right, it is of him and Thomas but it’s of them when they were much much younger. If Alexander had to guess, they were nine and ten respectively. They’re grinning over a fire, hotdogs on sticks and leaning against each other's shoulders. They look so happy, so innocent together. Alexander almost chokes up then and there, tracing the burn edges of the picture with his eyes.

Thomas had tried to destroy it. There’s a lighter on the sink Alexander hadn’t seen before. Alexander looks around at the other pictures he can see. They’re _all_ of him and Thomas, mostly as children. There’s even one of Thomas pouting as a long-forgotten councilor wraps his broken wrist. Alexander is draped over his back, laughing and holding the other boy in a hug. That one he actually reaches out and picks up. Only the corners are seared, part of Thomas’ arm being lost to the blackened edge.

“I still love you,” comes the muttered confession from the floor. Thomas’ eyes are barely open, watching Alexander as examines the photo. “Always did.”

“Thomas…” Alexander trails.

“Even as kids,” Thomas whispers. “Even through...everything.”

“No, Thomas, don’t say that,” Alexander says.

“Why would I lie?”

\--------------

_“Why would I lie, Mr. Jefferson?” Washington asks, one eyebrow cocked. His hand is still planted on the shoulder of the newest hire into the firm, a short little man with familiar eyes and a familiar name._

_“I… I don’t know,” Thomas admits. His exclamation,_ you can’t be serious _, had been completely reactionary, something that slipped out when Thomas had been given the other man’s name. “Alexander Hamilton, as I live and breathe.”_

_“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Alexander asks, scowling. Thomas blinks, standing from his seat._

_“Thomas,” he prompts. “Thomas Jefferson? From camp?”_

_Alexander’s eyes go wide in understanding and recognition. “Thomas?”_

_“You two know each other?” Washington asks. Thomas nods, grin spreading across his face._

_“Yeah, we were friends as kids,” Thomas explains. He walked around his desk. “I never thought I’d see_ you _again, Alexander.”_

_Alexander returns his grin. “You’re telling me,” he says. Washington chuckles._

_“It’s very convenient you were the last stop on the tour, then,” he says. “You two catch up. Take a long lunch.”_

_“Thank you, sir,” Thomas says, but he’s too busy examining his long-lost friend’s face to really respond. He’s older, obviously, but there are other differences too. He’s got a goatee, and his face is framed with laugh and worry lines. Washington leaves with a goodbye, and the two are left alone._

_“Alexander Hamilton went to law school and became a lawyer, huh?” Thomas jokes. Alexander chuckles._

_“Actually, Alexander Hamilton went to law school, served in the military, then became a lawyer,” he explains. “You went straight through, I imagine?”_

_“Yep,” Thomas says, leaning against the desk. “The military, really?”_

_“Yep,” Alexander says, matching Thomas’ tone. “Paid for school.” Then there’s an awkward silence, and Thomas can’t have that so he says:_

_“Man, why’d you stop coming to camp? What happened to you?” He means it innocently, but Alexander winces and looks away._

_“Life happened. How’s the arm?” He asks. Thomas blinks, confused for a second, then picks up his left hand and looks at it._

_“Honestly? It’s a little fucked,” Thomas admits. “Gives me problems in the winter.” Alexander shakes his head, chuckling._

_“You back-flipped out of the tent,” he mutters._

_“You dared me to,” Thomas counters, smiling._

_“Not out of the tent!” Alexander protests. But he’s grinning, his smile is blinding and Thomas knows, even before they spend lunch together, that his feelings haven’t changed in almost twenty years._

\------------

“Since we were children?” Cody asks. Alexander swallows, and nods, grabbing onto Thomas’ hand tighter. Thomas’ hand stays limp, but the blood flow is starting to slow down now, _thank god_.

“You shouldn’t love me,” Alexander counters. A weak smile crosses Thomas’ face.

“But I do,” he says. Alexander hears Cody inhale sharply, sees him stiffen from the corner of his vision.

“Don’t,” Alexander says softly.

“I love you,” Thomas breathes.

\-------------

_“I love you,” Thomas moans. Alexander stiffens, stops in his ministrations against Thomas’ neck._

_“What?” Alexander asks, pulling back. Thomas swallows, missing the feeling of Alexander on his body._

_“I said I love you,” Thomas repeats. Alexander blinks down at him. He doesn’t say anything, just returns to what he was doing and grinding himself down onto Thomas’ thigh. Thomas doesn’t mind. He doesn’t need Alexander to say it back. He knows Alexander loves him just as much._

_Thomas just had to say it in case he woke up in the morning and Alexander was gone again._

\------------

“Thomas, don’t,” Alexander admonishes.

\------------

_“Thomas, don’t,” Alexander says, from where he’s putting his shoes on. “Don’t start with this.”_

_“I just want to know who you’re going to go see,” Thomas counters. He leans against the bathroom doorframe, in nothing but his boxers. “I’m not going to stop you, you know that.”_

_Alexander pauses, sighs and finishes the knot. “Burr.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Thomas snorts. “And how’s that?”_

_“Not the greatest,” Alexander admits._ Do you expect him to be? _Thomas asks in his head._ Do you want him to be better than me? _But Thomas doesn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, he just says:_

_“Be careful around that one.”_

_“Thanks for the unneeded advice,” Alexander grumbles. Thomas shrugs._

_“Just tryna help.” Thomas turns to look at himself in the mirror, running his hands along his beard._

_“See you,” Alexander says._

_“I’ll be here,” Thomas replies. “I’ll always be here.”_

\-------------

“Not after what I’ve done,” Alexander says. Cody sits there in confused silence. Thomas’ eyes drift in and out of focus, eyelids fluttering.

“What you’ve done?” Cody asks slowly, unsure. Alexander doesn’t look up at him, _can’t_ look up at him. He stays focused on Thomas, his ears pricked for the sound of sirens.

“I…” Alexander trails. “I’m sorry.”

\------------

_“I’m sorry, am I distracting you?” Washington clears his throat. Alexander looks up, apologies on his face. “Daydreaming again, Alexander?”_

_“No, sir, sorry sir.” Alexander’s words fall from his mouth in a tumble, like they’re wont to do. Thomas stifles a sigh. Washington just frowns and goes back to what he was talking about, a recent case about oil drilling rights._

_Alexander and Burr go back to playing footsie under the table. Thomas just shifts in his seat and tries to ignore it. Whatever Alexander_ thinks _he has with Burr, it’ll end, like it always does. It’ll end and Alexander will come right back to Thomas._

_Hell, Alexander will come back to Thomas before it’s over. He always does. He always chooses Thomas in the end._

\------------

“For what?” Cody asks, suddenly suspicious. Alexander steels himself.

“For everything,” he mutters. “Everything’s my fault.”

“No it isn’t,” Thoms breaks in. “What you did was no excuse.”

“What you did?” Cody presses.

\----------

_“I loved what you did!” Alexander exclaims. He’s on the phone, talking to whomever he’s seeing now. Thomas has stopped asking. It doesn’t matter who it is. It always ends and Thomas always wins._

_Thomas is winning now, in fact. As Alexander gushes and lies to whomever is on the other side of the call, Thomas is rubbing little circles into Alexander’s thighs with his thumbs. The other man is spread out for Thomas, legs wide as Thomas goes to work. Thomas presses in just the right spot and Alexander’s body jerks._

_“Perfect, it was just perfect, I promise you,” Alexander rambles. “Look, I’m busy right now. Call you back? Okay, later babe.” Alexander tosses the phone across the room quickly, as if the other person is going to call back. “Thomas Jefferson,” he breathes, “you are a mean, mean man.”_

_Thomas grins. “Am I? Am I really?” Thomas uses the tone of voice he knows Alexander loves. He rubs his beard up against Alexander’s inner thigh and Alexander gasps._

_“No, now get on with it.”_

_Get on with it Thomas does_. _Alexander talks the entire time, like usual, but Thomas loves it._

\----------

“It doesn’t matter,” Thomas mutters. “It’s my fault anyway.” Alexander feels the guilt hit right in the center of his chest. He still can’t look up at Cody when he starts to talk.

“Remember how a week ago you were telling me that you thought Thomas was cheating on you and that’s why he never stayed after you two had sex? And I dropped that plate and threw you out of my apartment?”

“Yeah, you said you felt sick,” Cody says, his voice guarded. “If this is about you cheating on Thomas, I know about that.” But Alexander is already shaking his head.

“No, it’s… there’s more.”

\----------

_“There’s more if you want some,” Thomas calls back, flipping the pancakes on the griddle. Alexander hums his thanks, not looking up from his phone. It’s one of those rare mornings Alexander stays. They’re both just in boxers and the sun is just peeking through Thomas’ window._

_“I’m going to need your key to my place back,” Alexander says. Thomas looks over his shoulder at his boyfriend._

_“Why?” He asks._

_“Because I’m moving and my landlord wants all the copies of it,” Alexander explains. Thomas feels relief flood through him. He turns back to the pancakes._

_“On my keyring. Between my car keys and the one for work,” he says. He hears Alexander pick up his keys from the counter and fiddle with them. “When are you getting your new ones?”_

_“Already got ‘em.”_

_“Oh?” Thomas is pleasantly surprised. “Put mine back in that same spot then.”_

_“I don’t have one for you,” Alexander grunts, struggling with the keys._

_“Do you need me to have a copy made, then?” Thomas asks._

_“No.”_

_Thomas sighs. “How am I supposed to get in your place, then?” He asks._

_“You’re not going to. We’re going to have to stay here from now on,” Alexander says, finally popping his key off the ring._

_“And why’s that?” Thomas hums. “I like your place,” he says._ It means you _have_ to talk to me in the mornings _, he ads in his head._

_“Well, you can’t just walk into John’s place, can you?”_

_Thomas freezes. “What do you mean, ‘John’s place?’’ He asks, tersely._

_“I’m moving in with John.” Alexander says it casually, like it makes all the sense in the world to be moving in with John._

_“What?” Thomas asks, turning around to look at his boyfriend. Alexander stops, halfway through a mouthful of pancake._

_“Do you have a problem with that?” He asks, as if he had never considered the possibility._

_“Yes I have a problem with that!” Thomas exclaims. “How am I supposed to react to you moving in with your side thing.”_

_“My… side thing?” Alexander asks. “...You think John is my ‘side thing?’”_

_Thomas nods. “What else would he be?”_

_“My boyfriend?” Alexander suggests, and Thomas almost breaks out laughing at the absurdity._

_“John Laurens,_ your _boyfriend. That’s rich.” Thomas turns back to the pancakes, sliding them onto a plate. “God, if I didn’t love you so much…”_

 _“John_ is _my boyfriend,” Alexander insists. Thomas grits his jaw. “_ You’re _my ‘side thing.’”_

_Thomas freezes, letting a pancake hit the countertop. He can’t believe what he just heard. “I’m sorry, would you like to repeat that?” He says, voice deceptively light._

_“You heard what I said,” Alexander scoffs. Thomas turns around slowly, feeling his eyes bug out._

_“You think I’m your side piece?” He asks.  Alexander nods._

_“What else would you be?”_

_“Your_ boyfriend _, perhaps?”_

_Alexander chokes on pancake. “What?” He looks so honestly shocked and confused, Thomas takes pity on him._

_“We’ve been together for two years, Alexander!”_

_“No,” Alexander says slowly, “we’ve been_ sleeping _together for two years. There’s a difference.”_

_“What difference is there?!” Thomas yells. Alexander blinks._

_“Thomas, man. You and I have always been about sex, that’s it. No more, no less.”_

_Thomas really laughs now. “That’s funny, Alexander. That’s real funny. Stop bullshiting me.”_

_“You can’t honestly think you and I are…” Alexander trails, realization flashing across his face. “That’s why you keep saying you love me.”_

_“Because I do!” Thomas exclaims. “What did you think I said that for? For kicks?”_

_“I… I dunno…” Alexander trails. Thomas looks at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving._

_“Two years. Two years and nothing meant anything to you?”_

_“Thomas-”_

_“You kept choosing me and nothing_ meant _anything to you?”_

_“Choosing you?”_

_“Over Burr. Over Maria. Over everyone else you dated over the past two years!”_

_“That wasn’t_ choosing _you it was letting them go!” Alexander finally roars back. “None of them deserves to be with a cheater!”_

 _“But John does? But_ I _do?”_

_“You’re the one I cheated with, you don’t count.”_

_Thomas pauses. “...I don’t_ count _?” He says, feeling like he talking with sandpaper in his mouth. “I don’t count?! After everything, I don’t count.”_

_“I didn’t mean it like that-” Alexander tries to say, but Thomas cuts him off._

_“How did you mean it then? Because I just heard that the last two years ‘didn’t count.’ What else didn’t count, Alexander? Each time I told you I loved you? Each time we fucked? What about our promise, huh? Does that ‘not count’ anymore either?”_

_“What promise?” Alexander asks. Thomas gapes. He can’t form words for a moment, but when he does they’re full of cold rage._

_“When we promised to be there for each other, forever.”_

_“When did we-”_

_“The last day of camp. The last time I saw you before you disappeared for_ decades! _”_

_It’s Alexander’s turn to gape, open-mouthed. “We were kids, Thomas! Kids stay stupid shit all the time. That doesn’t matter!”_

_Alexander’s words hit Thomas hard enough to force the air out of his lungs. He scrabbles against the countertop, looking for something to hold onto in case his legs give out. The world is ending and he can’t breathe but Alexander is just sitting there, looking at Thomas like he’s the biggest idiot on the planet. Thomas gasps for air._

_“Get out,” he says, hearing his own voice tremble. “Get out of my house.”_

_“Thomas-”_

_“I said get the fuck out!” Thomas screams. Alexander scrambles from his seat and opens his mouth again but Thomas doesn’t want to hear it. “Get out and never come back, do you hear me? Get out, get out,_ get out!”

_Alexander slams the door behind him and Thomas falls to his knees. He hits the floor, unable to even form a coherent thought. Thomas can’t even cry everything is so fucked up. Then there’s a knocking at the door and a “Can I get my clothes and car keys?”_

_Thomas doesn’t even really know what he’s doing until he’s opening the window and throwing Alexander’s keys outside. He slams the window, storms back into his bedroom and collects Alexander’s clothes from the floor. When he returns to the window, Alexander is standing there so Thomas chooses a different window to hurl Alexander’s pants from._

_Once the clothes are gone, Thomas makes a once-over of his house, tossing everything that looks like it could be Alexander’s out the nearest window. Every time he spots the man scrambling to collect everything, Thomas just screams at him. He doesn’t even register what he’s saying but from the expression on Alexander’s face, it must hurt._

_The last thing he tosses is a photograph from their single date to an amusement park._

\------------

“I cheated. Over and over and over again. But I didn’t…” Alexander chokes on his words. “I thought I was cheating on others with Thomas. I- god, I-” Alexander can’t look up, can only look at Thomas when he says:

“I treated Thomas like he treated you.”

Cody goes stock still, dead silent, and Alexander has nothing else to say.

“Don’t blame him,” Thomas whispers. “Please, Cody. Don’t blame him.”

\-----------

 _“Don’t blame him, you… you fuck!” Thomas can hear James screeching in Alexander’s office from where he’s huddled in the bathroom. The Facebook post, the one where Alexander spilled_ everything _, is still open on his phone where Thomas had chucked it against the wall. Thomas puts his head between his knees and tries to block it out. James doesn’t need to be yelling at Alexander, James should be yelling at Thomas._

_Thomas is the one who fucked everything up, after all. If Thomas hadn’t done what he did, Alexander would still be with John. Alexander would still be happy. Alexander would have come back to Thomas._

_Thomas would still have Alexander._

\-----------

Alexander can finally hear the sirens and he lets out a breath of relief. Thomas is still awake on the floor and the paramedics are here. He gets up, passing Thomas’ hand to a shell-shocked Cody, and meets them on the ground floor. He leads them upstairs, telling them what he knows and lets them go to work. Cody slips out around them as they swarm Thomas, talking between each other.

Cody stands in silence beside Alexander. Neither of them say anything. Alexander has no idea where to begin.

“I… questions?” He asks.

Cody nods. “Holy shit do I have questions.”

\----------

_“Holy shit do I have questions,” someone says from beside Thomas. “Namely, why is a hottie like you drinking alone?”_

_Thomas sighs into his drink. He just wants to be left alone, but some horny bastard is going to try and ruin it for him. “Go away,” he mutters._

_“Aw, come on, darling. At least answer the question…?” The stranger poses. Thomas grits his teeth and looks up. He just manages to smother the gasp that threatens to escape him. Somehow, inexplicably, it’s Alexander hitting on him._

_At least, Thomas thinks so for the split second it takes to register that the stranger’s hair is much shorter and he’s way too young to be Alexander. It doesn’t stop him from staring, though. The stranger chuckles. “Like what you see?”_

_“Who are you?” He asks, much less harshly than he intended._

_“Cody,” he says, sliding into the seat next to Thomas. “Can I buy you a drink?”_

\------------

The moment Alexander and Cody are in the car, Cody looks at Alexander, face worryingly blank.

“Go on then. Explain what the _fuck_ you meant,” he says. Alexander can tell he’s fighting to keep himself neutral. Alexander sighs.

“In the entirety of our relationship, I took Thomas on _one_ date,” is the horrible, horrible place Alexander chooses to start.

\------------

_Thomas looks at the young man on the bed beside him. Cody’s fallen asleep, which doesn’t surprise Thomas. People tend to do that after sex. People also tend to leave you alone after sex, in Thomas’ experience. So that’s what he does. Picks up his clothes, gets dressed, and sneaks out of Cody’s apartment._

_It’s a one night stand, until suddenly it isn’t. Thomas had left his phone at Cody’s. Which necessitated a meet-up. Which led to more sex._

_Then Thomas discovered Cody had put his number into Thomas’ phone. Which led Thomas to text the boy. Which led to more sex._

_Thomas justifies it to himself. This is what Alexander did, so it’s fine. Neither he nor Cody have any expectations besides sex, it’s fine. So what if Thomas takes Cody on a few dates, it’s fine. Cody asks to move in with Thomas, but Thomas says no so it’s fine._

_It’s fine until suddenly it isn’t._

_And everything comes crashing down around Thomas again._

\------------

They don’t make it to the hospital before Alexander’s story is over. Cody is breathing hard, even without doing anything but listening. Alexander braces himself, which is the right thing to do because suddenly, Cody turns to him.

“What the _fuck_ , Alexander?” Cody yells. Alexander winces. “What the absolute living _fuck_?”

“I know,” is all he can say. Cody stares at him, wide-eyed.

“You never said anything about any of… _that!_ ”

“I didn’t realize until last week, Cody!”

\----------

_Alexander rescued Cody, so Thomas doesn’t have to worry about that anymore._

_Cody refused to forgive him, so Thomas doesn’t have to worry about that anymore._

_He moved back to Virginia, so he doesn’t have to worry about James, or his job, or anything anymore. He just sleeps and drinks to forget. He putters around his sister’s house. She tries to get him to rehab, or AA, or anything._

_Eventually she just kicks him out._

_Which is fine, it really is. Thomas has enough money to rent a house. It’s not like he’s going to be there long. Eventually, the drunken haze he calls life will ruin his liver. He knows his tolerance is rising, knows it takes him more drinks to stay drunk enough to live._

_His liver manages to last him five years, which Thomas would consider pretty impressive if he was ever sober enough to figure that out. Being sober, though, means not being able to stave off the memories or the guilt or anything else so he stays just drunk enough not to remember. Hangovers aren’t a problem if he just keeps drinking._

_Then he gets a call. Thomas fumbles with his phone, not recognizing the number. James has stopped calling him. Not even he tries anymore. Thomas is alone, waiting for death._

_He picks it up. “Hello?” He asks, face slumped against the phone._

_“Thomas?” comes a familiar voice._

_“Who is this?” He slurs._

_“Hi, Thomas, it’s me, Alexander.”_

_Oh._

_“What do you want?” Thomas asks, though it comes out harsher than intended._

_“Well, I- are you drunk?”_

_“No,” he says, the reaction an instinct after five years of always being drunk. Alexander pauses, and Thomas almost forgets he’s on the phone._

_“Thomas, I was talking to Cody-” Thomas winces, pulling his bottle of wine closer to his chest. “-about some things. And I… I realized… stay with me on this because I understand if you don’t believe me at first, but hear me out.” Alexander takes a breath. “You’re my Cody.”_

_There’s a silence, Thomas’ intoxicated brain processing what Alexander is saying to him. What the implications of what Alexander is saying are. Then, when the lightbulb goes off, Thomas starts to laugh. He laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Alexander starts to sputter, starts to talk again but Thomas cuts him off._

_“I know,” he says, chuckling. Alexander falls silent again. Thomas giggles like a schoolgirl at a sleepover. “God, it took you five years. Thought you were smarter than that.”_

_“Why didn’t you say anything?” Alexander demands. Thomas finally snaps out of his laughing fit. As the final giggle escapes him, he manages to reply:_

_“Because it wasn’t an excuse. It doesn’t matter what you did, just what_ I _did.” And that’s the crux of the matter as far as Thomas is concerned. Alexander is silent again, and this is probably the least Thomas has ever heard him talk ever._

_“I…” Alexander trails. Thomas sighs._

_“Now that you know, what are you going to do?” Thomas asks._

_“What?” Alexander sputters._

_“Now that you know,” Thomas repeats slowly, “what are you going to do?”_

_“What am I going to do?”_

_Thomas nods, like Alexander can see him. “What are you going to do with your new found information? I’ll tell you what I did. I tried to hide it, and then you found out and- and- now I’m drinking myself to death, alone in Virginia. What are you going to do?_

_“I- I-” Alexander stutters._

_“Good luck,” Thomas says, and hangs up. He puts the phone on the table. He takes a swig of wine, feeling the familiar burn as it runs down his throat. He looks at his phone and is seized with another laughing fit. He doubles over, the wine spilling onto the floor, but Thomas doesn’t care._

_At some point, he starts to cry. He sits there in hysterics, his drunk state no longer enough to banish the memories from his mind. He reaches for the bottle, confused as to why it’s empty before dropping it and going back into the kitchen for another. He grabs the first thing he sees, Thomas is no longer picky about his drinks. It all works the same way._

_Except when it doesn’t because Thomas is still plagued. Hours and countless drinks later and he can’t escape himself. He can’t sort what memories are of Cody and which are of Alexander anymore. Alexander… he misses Alexander. He misses Alexander more than he’s ever missed anything more in his life. He should- he should call-_

_No, he can’t call Cody because Cody is friends with_ _Alexander now and Thomas messed up with both of them and he’s alone. There’s no point. Thomas is alone and there’s no point to anything anymore. It doesn’t even matter that Alexander knows what he did, nothing matters anymore._

_Somehow, Thomas finds himself in his bathroom, sobbing over a group of photographs he almost forgot he had. He’s still drinking. His hands shake as he handles the photos, vision swimming as he tries to focus on what’s in front of him._

_Alexander. Alexander and Thomas. Kids. Fire. Thomas laughing with Alexander. Every photo from camp that Thomas saved is here and he can’t even really look at them he’s so drunk. It makes him so angry, so_ fucking _angry. Angry at himself and angry at Alexander. Thomas stands, stumbles over to his nightstand and finds the zippo lighter he knows is there. Thomas drops the now-empty bottle on the floor and stumbles back to the bathroom._

_Thomas picks one of the pictures, fumbles with the lighter until it lights, and holds them together. He watches the fire lick at the corner of it, watches Alexander and himself go up in flames. Except as the fire reaches Alexander’s face, Thomas is hit with a pang of remorse, and he quickly blows out the fire. Throwing the half-destroyed one aside, Thomas tries again and again, but none of the pictures burn for very long before Thomas saves them._

_Soon, he’s surrounded by half-burnt pictures, some of them slightly ripped, and Thomas hates himself for not letting any of them burn. But he’s also happy all of them survived and the contradiction is tearing him apart. He’s not crying anymore, his body having run out of tears. So he sits there, in the midst of his own failures, and he just gives up._

_He reaches for the sink, uses it to help him stand and he stumbles to the bathtub. He turns on the water, waits for it to heat up before shutting the drain and letting it fill. Despite the drunken haze, Thomas feels oddly calm, clear-headed, like the weight of the world has disappeared from his shoulders. He shuts off the tap when it’s high enough, stumbles downstairs and finds his phone. A quick ‘goodbye’ text to his sister, and there’s nothing else to be done._

_Thomas pulls himself back up the stairs, finds a razor, and gets to work. The sheer amount of alcohol in his system deadens the pain enough for him to really dig in. The blood runs into the sink and drips on the floor, but Thomas stays calm. The sight of it is cathartic._

_When the razor slips from his fingers and Thomas can’t manage to pick it back up with his blood-soaked fingers, he figures he’s just about done anyway. Thomas slides into the bathtub, the hot water soaking into his clothes and the water turns pink the moment his arms hit the surface._

_Thomas leans back against the wall, shuts his eyes, and waits._

\----------

Thomas lost consciousness during the ambulance ride. Besides stitches and a blood transfusion, there wasn’t much the doctors could do. Even now, they waited for someone to find a matching blood type to give to Thomas. So they had stitched up his arms and told Alexander and Cody to pray.

Alexander and Cody sit in Thomas’ hospital room, in silence, separated by a span of feet. Cody won’t look at Alexander. They don’t speak. Alexander knows they won’t speak until Thomas wakes up. Cody is too busy processing what Alexander has told him. The last thing said before the silence had come from Cody. A casual remark, as if the man was commenting about the weather:

“Franklin once told me that my kind of abuse comes when someone goes through it without realizing what it is, and thinks it’s actual love, so they do it to others without realizing. He said this after I told him P.J. and I were together. I thought he meant _I_ needed to be careful. I didn’t even think about Thomas.”

Alexander hadn’t known how to respond. So they now sit, not speaking, not looking at each other.

 _“What are you going to do?”_ Thomas’ words echo in Alexander’s mind. Earlier, he had the answer to the question: grab Cody and drive him down to Virginia for a talk. Alexander had called Thomas’ sister, only to learn the man was living on his own, two hours away from her. Then, an hour before they had arrived, his sister had called back. Thomas had sent her a goodbye text.

Sixty minutes became thirty.

And now, with Thomas unconscious and Cody silent, Alexander doesn’t know what he’s going to do. It all depends on when Thomas wakes up.

\--------------

_\------“I will never not want to see you. You’re my friend.”_

_“You’re mine too,” Thomas says. He turns his head, and finds Alexander looking at him. The other boy takes a breath._

_“Thomas,” he begins, “promise me something. Promise me that it’s going to be you and me forever. That in twenty years, you’ll still be my friend and I’ll still be yours and we’ll be together forever.”_

_Thomas looks in the Alexander’s eyes. He sees the desperation there and knows he must be wearing the same expression._

_“I promise.”_

_Thomas says it with all sincerity, meaning the words with every atom in his body. Alexander smiles at him. Then, Alexander’s head twitches; like he’s scooting closer to Thomas but a second later Alexander sits up. His back is to Thomas and suddenly, Thomas is worried he said something wrong._

_He sits up too, turning his body and legs around to face Alexander. “Was I not supposed to say that?” He asks. Alexander jumps, his head snaps around to look at Thomas._

_“No, you were, I-” Alexander cuts himself off. Thomas looks at his friend in concern. He doesn’t know what happened to make his friend so upset. He scoots closer._

_“What’s wrong, then?” He asks. Alexander shakes his head._

_“Nothing, Thomas,” he says. Thomas doesn’t believe him, and it must show on his face because Alexander sighs and turns around. There’s a pause, Alexander obviously trying to figure out what to say. Thomas waits with bated breath. His heart is hammering in his hears and he’s almost scared that whatever Alexander is going to say he’s not going to hear it, his own heart is that loud-----_

_\------Then Alexander moves, leaning closer to Thomas and before Thomas can register what’s happening the other boy puts his lips on Thomas’._

_Thomas blinks and it’s over. Alexander leans back, his eyes searching Thomas’ face for a reaction. Thomas stares back, dumbfounded-----_

_\-----before Thomas can register what’s happening the other boy puts his lips on Thomas’-----_

_\-----Thomas grabs Alexander’s hand, threading his fingers through the younger boy’s-----_

_\-----the other boy puts his lips on Thomas’-----_

_\-----stars splay across the dark blue sky, twinkling brightly. It takes Thomas’ breath away.-----_

_\-----“I promise.”------_

_\-----Thomas blinks and it’s over.-----_

_\-----lips-----_

\------------

Thomas’ heart monitor flat lines.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you put two angst-addicted people together, have them try to make an AU, then realize that the AU somehow magically fits the demon child you created in the past.
> 
> This was never intended I don't know why it worked out so well.
> 
> If I write a tenth part literally hunt me down and kill me, okay?
> 
> Fun fact: I worked as a camp counselor last summer and Camp Yorktown is based on my camp. Also if you doubt the idea a family would let their kid stay at camp with a broken arm, it happened to one of the girls I was watching. She broke her arm third day of camp and her parents made her stay. Legit. Girl was a trooper. None of the adults knew what to do with her, but she stayed! She also had a friend that became her caretaker and I loved both of them so much.


End file.
